Brothers' Conflict
by officeladyhikaru
Summary: The twins are together - unofficially of course. Then one day things go wrong and Kaoru can not look at his brother anymore. He wants to tell someone, but who will believe him? And more importantly, what will they think of him if they do? (Hikaru / Kaoru / Kyouya love triangle; WARNING: Non-con, allusions to self-harm.)
1. Asleep

A.N.

1) The condition that Kaoru is described as having is known as sleep paralysis. In many people, it is associated with nightmares, but for Kaoru this is not the case until... well.

2) I realize this fic may bring up sensitive topics. I will try my best to do them justice, and portray everything in a realistic and respectful manner. There will be multiple chapters.

* * *

_"I'm coming home. I hope you're there. The day will break and I'll break too, into a million pieces - for you to come and find me and put me back together again." -sakeui tumblr_

...

Kaoru always fell asleep last, so Hikaru did not know about it, but whenever the younger twin dozed off, his body would succumb to sleep before his brain did. He could never pinpoint the exact moment, but sooner or later, he would try to move and find himself unable to do so. At first, it was unsettling, but as time went on he only came to find it odd - though not unpleasant - to lie there locked into his body, and yet remain perfectly conscious of the drip-drip of a faucet in the ensuite bathroom, of his brother's weight against his body, and of the resting electronics breathing and blinking in the darkness. In the end, it was not until he caught himself wondering why he was walking through the streets of Paris with an elephant parading past that he would realize he was asleep.

The twins were Together - unofficially of course, and so his brother would visit him almost nightly. They did not talk about it, but then again they did not need to. Almost everything that was Kaoru's was Hikaru's, and what was Hikaru's was Kaoru's. That was the way it had always been, so it came as no surprise when they were laughing about something under the covers one day, and Hikaru had moved closer towards him, put his hand on his waist, and drawn him in. He had then put three fingers on his chin as he did at the Host Club, but leaned in to kiss him for real, and Kaoru did not remember it feeling wrong at the time - in fact, it felt very nice, his brother's mouth warm and insistent against his. It was a perfect resolution to a yen that had been there all along, and had both found a name and vanished the moment his brother's lips landed on his.

After that day, they were inseparable - not that they had not been until then, but now they were an item _that way_, too: brushing hands in class even as their Host Club performances grew more authentic, entwining fingers in the car, and Kaoru pulling up his knees and cuddling in close as they watched TV. As time went on and they grew closer, Hikaru took up trying to roll over on top of Kaoru, pushing his thigh up between his legs and grinding against his middle. And Kaoru would always enjoy it and push back, and from time to time they would open up their pants and help each other. But Kaoru would always stop his brother before things went too far, figuring it would not do because the whole thing had an expiration date. Hikaru would always look a little annoyed after he did, but then again you could not expect to have an ever-after with your twin, and Hikaru was probably not thinking that far ahead either. Indeed, if they did take that step it was sure to make things messy. No, Kaoru much preferred a Schrodinger's relationship that both was and wasn't. Not that he knew much about breaking up or moving on, but he figured it would be harder to regret what never was in the first place.

Sometimes, retiring with Hikaru at his side was a natural conclusion to the day's events. The conversation would drag, and eventually they would put aside their books and game consoles and gravitate to the bed. At other times, he would come to Hikaru - or Hikaru would come to him - after the rest of the house had gone to sleep, and their hands would find each other in the darkness. That night, Kaoru lay in his room with the lights off, the smell of lavender tickling the insides of his lungs as he waited for his brother, and he had almost begun to worry when the door creaked open, revealing Hikaru's fox-faced profile in the light of the hallway. Kaoru sighed and closed his eyes, for the lead had already begun to accumulate in his limbs, and sure enough, a moment later the covers rustled, the bed frame squeaked, and his brother's warmth was all around him and his lips were against his - soft yet turgid, and as always not taking no for an answer. Indeed, this time the lips were even more persistent than usual, and smelled of something as heady and sweet as it was and harsh and stifling -

Hikaru, have you -

But he could not move his lips.

No. No. Oh, God no.

He was locked in.

But - but no. It was alright. It would be alright. He would manage. After all, Hikaru would probably kiss him messily for a few minutes and drop off to sleep, at which point…

Kaoru felt his chest collapse like a sail stripped of its wind. Hikaru's hand had balled around his wrist and pressed it, hard, into the mattress.

"Kaoru - " He heard his brother whisper hotly in his ear. Somehow, Hikaru was not slurring his speech, but his very words throbbed. "I want to fuck you… Please… I want at least one good thing to happen to me today."

Hikaru drank. And Kaoru knew he drank. Jack Daniels, Armagnac from France, Umeshu, Vodka. Anything a fifteen-year-old could get his hands on after his parents' parties. It made him feel happy - like a cartoon, he said, though sometimes "happy" translated into loudly ranting about all his so-called accomplishments, as well as his haters, only to drop off snoring minutes later. And while Kaoru did not exactly approve, he would have been lying if he did not admit to partaking as well. Once, they had even kissed while at it, rolling the bubblegum-grape flavor of the Grand Marnier back and forth with their tongues. That time, Hikaru had somehow ended up on top of him, and had sucked his neck so hard that Kaoru had to claim he was revisiting his scarf phase the next day. And more than that, it was much harder than usual to pry Hikaru's hands away after the Grand Marnier ran out and he began insisting they "take it to the next level."

But Hikaru had never before touched liquor on a school night before - and, granted, Kaoru had not seen much of his brother that day. It was Sunday, and for Hikaru the day had begun with a stern talking-to about his future and his latest report card, followed by a colonoscopy of a discussion with a series of tutors about what should be done next. Kaoru, thankfully, had been excluded, for he had always been better at dotting his eyes and crossing his t's. But Hikaru had still been in a foul mood for the rest of the day, and had made himself scarce, brushing off his brother's attempts to make him feel better. At first, the younger twin tried not to let it worry him. After all, Hikaru had a way of storming off and sulking, only to return a few hours later as if nothing had happened.

But not this time. Hikaru was just as angry and hurt as he had been, if not more so, his fingers digging into Kaoru's body as if clawing away at his own pain. In fact, he had thrown his entire weight on top of him, pressing his hard knob against his hips as his mouth bit into the younger twin's neck, sucking in a rough mouthful.

"Kaoru," he growled, pulling at his waistband, "Don't be a little bitch. I love you - just let me fuck you. Let me fuck that sweet little ass. I know you want it."

By that time, Kaoru did not know if it was the sleep paralysis or the sheer terror, but as he tried to struggle, for all the good it did him his bones might have been so brittle that they splintered from the force of his own muscles.

In truth, he might not have been averse. There was something desperately sad in his brother's voice, rough and hungry as it was. Kaoru loved his brother, and he might not have minded the sacrifice. He might even have wanted it, and would have only been too happy to stroke away the pain, if not for -

Hikaru must have taken Kaoru's inability to move for consent, and was rummaging through his pocket, straddling him with a hand firmly on his chest. But that, Kaoru was fairly certain, was not the only reason he felt his ribcage collapse more and more as he struggled for breath. The darkness turned into serpents, undulating from the corners of the canopy above the bed. The room was cavernous, dark and deep, and the bed seemed to stretch on forever. The lavender continued to mix with the sickly sweetness of the alcohol and grew stronger, covering his mouth and nose like a rag soaked in ether.

No. Not like this - he wanted to sob. For the love of all that is good and holy. Not like this.

But his voice was still gone. In any other circumstance, Kaoru might have panicked, for the paralysis was lasting longer than normal. But Hikaru had thrown the covers aside and sat back on his haunches, and while Kaoru could not see what he was doing, it was not too hard to guess. In spite of himself, Kaoru felt a hollow, anxious tightness swell between his hips, and closed his eyes. In the darkness, he could not see his brother's face anyway, but it was better this way. His chest had been breaking with paralyzed sobs and screams, but now it just felt empty. His bones were still brittle, and for a moment he thought that if he could not get his strength back he would simply lie still and wait for it to be over. Hikaru was drunk and sad - which meant he did not know what he was doing. And that only meant that he, Kaoru, would have to manage just as he always did.

Kaoru felt something cold drip down his privates, and then his legs were pushed up and to either side, limp as a marionette's.

"Oh, fuck, Kaoru… So good… So submissive. So sexy," he heard his brother's voice swelling with lust. "Such a sweet little hole."

A shiver ran up his thighs as he felt Hikaru brush up against him. Then his brother pushed forward and Kaoru let out a scream, arching his spine like a nymph with a broken back.

Of course. Of course. This is what it would take - it was almost too predictable.

"S - St - Oh, fu -" Kaoru gasped, strapped for air. His muscles were back, his bones were back, his every fiber was a live, galvanic thread. He tried to thrash, but Hikaru held him, both his hands on his legs and his body weight on top.

"Oh, come on, Kaoru, you're not going to back out now, are you? After you've got me this hard, you little sex-pixie?"

The pain in the younger twin's chest grew, swelling and filling his lungs like that much water, but it could not have compared to the pain _down there_. Kaoru squeezed his eyes shut, turning his head to the side, and tried to master the anger and the despair rising inside him. He had not wanted to define things - that was true. But he would have been lying if he said he had not thought about it - had not fantasized about it, usually in the context of a walk and a kiss, and then a flower-meadow and a sunset. Well, he got his flower-meadow, laced with the deathly stench of opium-poppy, and as he closed his eyes a tear slid down his temple.

"Oh, fuck, Kaoru, you feel so good."

Hikaru had begun to move, wrapping his arms tighter around him and suckling on another mouthful of neck. The pain intensified. Kaoru tried to resist, another spasm rocking his chest as he dug his fingers into his brother's back, but Hikaru seemed to have no concept of what he was doing, and rammed back and forth as if his goal really was to mince flesh. Seconds passed. Kaoru suddenly felt cold, and wanted to vomit.

And yet, Hikaru clearly enjoying himself. Moaning and arching his back as he thrust, his muscles undulating under his skin, he kissed up and down Kaoru's neck, and it really did seem like he was stroking away whatever pain he had been feeling. His gasps still sounded like sobs, but as he shuddered with each stroke, Hikaru seemed to have become all body. Which was well and good, Kaoru thought as he gritted his teeth, imagining himself floating under the ceiling and watching his brother's white sliver of a back in the darkness. At first, he did not think he would be able to bear it, but stepping outside his body helped. Maybe, if he tried hard enough, he could even imagine Hikaru was with someone else instead of him. It would still hurt, but not nearly as much.

Just a little more.

The darkness hung close around them, thick and lavender-soaked, and Kaoru wished he could hold his breath until everything turned blacker than the blackest black.

Any time now.

With a cry, Hikaru heaved one last time, and Kaoru knew it was over. He drew a ragged breath as his brother collapsed on top of him. It still hurt, but only as much as a mosquito bite after being drawn and quartered.

You may come back yet - he heard a voice. Your body may still be salvageable.

But did he want to? Salvageable or not, his body was disgusting to him now - no better than rotting flesh amid the wet sheets.

Daybreak came and shattered into a million pieces over the floor, but Kaoru Hitachiin had not slept, nor could he be sure that he would ever sleep again.


	2. Morning

Hikaru always woke early after drinking, and that day in particular, his mind instantly came online as his eyes drifted open. The sun was ricocheting off the walls, splintering as it bounced off the blonde wooden floors and into the mirror in the corner. The recesses of the canopy above the bed were the only sanctuary the darkness had left.

Kaoru lay on his side on the edge of the bed, his face turned away and the sheet pulled tightly around his body. Hikaru propped himself up on his elbow, and felt a ripple of nausea.

He had only a vague recollection of what happened the night before. He _thought_ they had sex, and the rubber still partway in place corroborated the fact. But he could not remember finishing - or what, if anything, had happened after after that. Which was too bad - he would have liked to remember more of his first time. And, looking back, he definitely could have done more to make his brother at ease, for Kaoru had not moved much the whole time, having probably been petrified on account of a bottom's first time being a harrowing-enough experience under the best of circumstances.

Kaoru's side rose and fell rhythmically, and slightly more deliberately than it would have if he were asleep. Hikaru shifted toward him, and put a hand on his waist.

"Hey. Kaoru," he whispered.

But Kaoru did not turn around, and continued to breathe slowly in and out.

"I was an ass last night, I'm sorry, I -"

No answer.

Hikaru sat up, pulling the rubber off himself under the covers. He tried to peer over his brother's shoulder, but Kaoru covered his face with his forearms.

"Kaoru, come on."

Hikaru reached over to run a hand over his brother's hip, slender and etched against the sunlight. But Kaoru recoiled - shifting away so forcefully he nearly tumbled off the side of the bed.

Hikaru's breath lodged in his throat, like Napoleon under a Russian snowdrift. Kaoru was not usually given to herky-jerky movements. The older twin scrambled to the foot of the bed, rummaging for his pants. Having found them, he pulled them on leaped out of bed, hurrying to the other side to squat at eye level with his brother.

"Kaoru, talk to me. Please."

Kaoru's hands were still over his face, and when Hikaru tried to peel them away, he pulled back violently and buried his face in the pillow.

Hikaru felt a cold terror slide down to his stomach. Kaoru had not moved or done much, but if he had not wanted it, if it had been too much, surely he would have tried to spot him? Maybe Kaoru had been too scared, but why would he be afraid of _him_, a drunken fool? It had hurt when Hikaru put it in, that much was obvious, and Kaoru had thrashed around a bit. But that was to be expected, wasn't it? A reflex, of sorts, right? And - oh, God…

_"You're not going to back out now, are you? After you've got me this hard, you little sex pixie?"_

"Good morning, young masters" - two nearly identical voices chimed over his shoulder.

Oh, fuck, no.

"Not now, Satomi," - Hikaru gritted his teeth, trying to stay his breath. "Can't you see we've got a - a situation here?"

"Your mother wanted to make sure you were down for breakfast on time. She does not want you to be late for school," said the slightly lower of the two voices, crisp as freshly pressed linen. The twins, as was perhaps to be expected, had twin maids, whose voices also different by about half an octave.

"Will there be any special requests this morning?" - added the other voice.

Kaoru had pulled his knees up to his chest and yanked the sheet over his face, and the maids looked at him with well-cultivated compassion. The panic had descended to the very pit of Hikaru's stomach, and was threatening to uncoil with the force of a striking cobra.

"K-Kaoru's not feeling well," he whispered, biting his lips. "I think he needs to stay home from school today."

…

"Oh, hell, no." Yuzuha threw down her napkin, only to retrieve it and dab quickly at her lips. "First you're failing half your subjects, skipping classes right and left, releasing chickens into the school cafeteria - and now Kaoru won't go to school, either?!"

Her husband glanced up from the paper, and appeared to decide, after a moment, not to comment. Twenty years had taught him that much. When his wife was in a tizzy - which was always - silence was by far the best course of action.

"Mom, please, he really isn't feeling well."

"We'll see about that."

Yuzuha swept up out of her seat, clasping her morning-robe at her chest and waving away the woman behind her who had been struggling to get her auburn-rich locks to obey a series of pins and clasps. Given her place in the world, _not_ multi-tasking was not an option for Yuzuha Hitachiin.

Hikaru sunk deeper into his chair, and poked his eggs Benedict. The starch on his collar was irritating his neck, the sun was still too bright, and from the moment the maids showed up - clearly with orders to watch Hikaru like hawks and march him downstairs directly - there had been no time to get a better sense of how bad things things really were, and it would take to fix them. The younger twin had remained huddled up under the sheets, his face pressed into the pillow, and Hikaru had not been able to get his hands to stop shaking. Indeed, he could barely button his own shirt, much less do more than push his yolk-soaked bacon around the plate.

Yuzuha disappeared with a slam of the door that rustled the curtains, and marched up the stairs. She had never been a well-balanced woman, and as the years went on it only got worse. She hid it well under a reputation for a harsh tongue and unwavering opinions, but the fact remained - it took her nearly a handful of pills to get to sleep every night, and a day when she merely felt on the verge of splintering instead of actually doing so was a good day.

The room was silent, the leaves of the ikebana arrangement in the elephant vase twitching in the dappled sunlight. A swatch of red hair between the pillows on the far side of the bed was all that betrayed her son's presence, and she crossed the room and squatted at his side.

"Kaoru. Honey."

Kaoru's face was buried in his pillows, and he did not move as she reached to run her fingers through his hair.

"Honey, what's wrong?"

There was no answer. Kaoru's back rose and fell rhythmically, and his temple felt cool.

"Where does it hurt, honey? Is it your head?" Goodness knew, she herself got enough headaches, and while Kaoru never complained, he was a lot like her - a worrier.

Kaoru let out a breath and wheezed softly, shaking his head into the pillow.

"Is it your stomach? Do I need to call the doctor?"

Kaoru shook his head, more vigorously this time. Yuzuha sighed.

"Koaru, please. Please be good for mommy. You've always been the good one. I can't do this without you." She put her hand on his shoulder. "I don't want you to start having problems in school, too. Please, just try. For me?"

…

Kaoru sat in class, staring out the window. Outside, the cherry trees had shed the last of their pink froth, and the branches flowed in a stream of wind like the long bodies of carp. He had dragged himself out of bed and stood in the shower for what felt like ages, having set the water to run hot and cold by turns. But it had not washed anything away. In fact, it seemed to be in a great hurry to get away from him, pooling around the drain as it did. He had not looked at Hikaru much in the car, or afterwards. He simply couldn't bring himself to do it.

He figured he needed something or someone - help of some kind, but he wasn't sure what kind. Hikaru was his brother, after all, so going to the authorities was not an option. Even if he did, it would not solve anything. It would not get him his brother back.

What did he need? He did not know. Perhaps to close his eyes and fade away. To split apart into a thousand pieces and have the wind carry them away, one by one.

All his life, he and Hikaru had been together. They had been each other's everything - and shared everything they had. Kaoru knew Hikaru had a wild side. He even loved him for it, because it meant his brother did things Kaoru never dared attempt. And he also knew Hikaru had a cruel side. But what had happened that night was not like burning ants with a magnifying glass on the pavement. It wasn't like giving a girl an ultimatum to tell the twins apart if she wanted to go out with one of them, only to laugh in her face when she got it wrong.

The second hand swept round and round the clock. The teacher was explaining something, pointing here and there at the board. The sound of her heels glanced off the vaulted ceiling, but the front of the room felt like it was thousands of miles away. Kaoru felt dizzy, and like someone was cutting away at his innards with very small scissors. Hikaru sat by his side. He could hear his breathing, and it made him feel ill. He tried to focus his eyes on the map above the board. Usually, if he felt less than engaged in school, at the very least he could watch the minutes trickle by and wait for class to be over. He like to make things, and always had a project or two waiting for him when he got home. But it was not as if going home would change anything that day. He also liked to look at his favorite map on the wall, imagining himself as Magellan circumnavigating the globe. He had a long list of places he wanted to visit. But as Kaoru looked at the map it began to grow bigger, and suddenly the continents became heavy and the seas began to wrap around the room like giant paper arms.

"Hitachiin, what are you doing up?"

Kaoru must have stood up without realizing it, for the teacher had paused in her lecture and was looking at him quizzically over her glasses. So were were a few students around him.

"I - I don't feel good."

"You feel sick?"

"Y-yes, ma'am."

His heart and lungs were starting to feel too big for his chest, and his head felt like it was about to pop off and go zooming away at mach speeds. He must have looked suitably pale, too, and both twins had been uncommonly subdued that day, so the teacher sighed and waved her hand.

"Alright, go to the nurse, then. And stop interrupting the lesson."

…

The sun was pouring in, blindingly bright, through the arches of the colonnade. Kaoru walked along, his feet carrying him on autopilot. He had been to the nurse's office, and the motherly woman has taken his vitals. She had puffy, gently-calloused hands, and something about them make Kaoru think of a milkmaid - not that he had ever met one. Still, he could not even bring himself to tell her where it hurt, much less tell her what happened. She looked so kind, after all - as if she had three grown children and lived in a small house with lots of hanging plants and fed the neighborhood cats on the way to work. He did not want her opinion of him to change. As a consequence, she seemed to have taken him for someone who was simply having a bad day, or wanted to get away from bullies, and offered him a bed in the infirmary to sleep it off. He lay under the crisp, freshly ironed covers, breathing in the smell of flannel, but he had not been able to fall asleep. Being the only one there made him uncomfortable, and the light beamed full-force through the tall French windows, paying no mind to the drapes. So he got up and thanked the woman, and said he wanted to walk around a bit and get some fresh air. As he left, the nurse smiled at him and said that if he wanted to talk to someone, the school psychologist was always there, and her own door was always open. But Kaoru knew the school psychologist, and he knew that the small balding man with the watery-blue eyes and twitchy fingers had an entire drawer dedicated to the Hitachiin twins. Indeed, the man always acted like he was their friend, but Kaoru knew he wasn't. And he couldn't blame him - anyone who read the Hitachiin file probably needed a handful of Xanax to fall asleep at night, and the last thing Kaoru wanted to do was add to it. Every adult he could think of was on his and Hikaru's case already, and sometimes all he wanted was to feel normal - and unnoticed.

It was an uncommonly cool day for late spring, and the air was biting at the insides of his airways, snapping him awake when for all the impetus he had to keep going, he might have lay down on the tiles and closed his eyes. He had not had a crumb in his stomach all day, but his nausea only intensified. It was just past lunch hour, and students were hurrying back to their classes, many having eaten outdoors despite the drop in temperature. Kaoru was only looking underfoot, and so when he bumped into another boy he at first did not realize who it was, and was about to hurry along with a mumbled apology when the latter caught him by the arm.

"Kaoru?"

It was Kyouya. Calm and cool, not a hair out of place, and smelling of something clean in the vein of Issey Miyake, the vice-president and CFO of the Host Club was a year above the twins in school, and Kaoru had not seen him since the previous Friday.

"Oh, Kyouya-senpai… I'm so sorry, I just..."

Kyouya nodded. "It's alright. But you should watch where you're headed. You could trip over someone."

Kaoru looked down. "I - okay. Er -"

Kyouya did not look like he had more to say, but he seemed to have noticed something was amiss, for he was still holding on to Kaoru's upper arm, his eyes the picture-perfect color of blank slate.

"Er, Kyouya-senpai, can I - Can I talk to you about something?"

"Yes, Kaoru, of course. But -" Kyouya turned his head slightly, casting a searching glance at him - "It looks like you might need more time than we have right now. Maybe it would be better to wait until after school?"

"I - no. I won't be coming to Host Club anymore."

Kyouya raised his eyebrows. "No?"

"Uh, yes. I - I mean, yes, that's right. But… I guess that's what I wanted to talk to you about."

"Oh. Alright." Kyouya's façade betrayed the tiniest shade of relief. True, it was not what he had expected - Kaoru looked far too much like he had seen a ghost, witnessed his family get butchered, and been told he had cancer all in the same hour for Kyouya to have guessed that it had anything to do with their mutual hobby. But, for what it was worth, at least Kaoru's problem seemed to be within his area of expertise. "Is something the matter?" Kyouya ventured. "Are you not getting along with someone?"

"Uh… N-no. It's just that -" Hitherto, the younger Hitachiin had simply looked constipated as he alternated between avoiding Kyouya's eyes and scrutinizing the floor. But suddenly he looked nothing short of pained, like a child who had been forcibly separated from a trinket he waited all year to receive. "I can't do the incestuous twin act anymore."

"Oh. I see. Well, that's alright. You shouldn't do anything you're uncomfortable with."

The younger looked down again, pressing his fingers painfully into his palms. The wind was rising - that much Kyouya could feel on the nape of his own neck. The last of the stragglers rushed past to get to class, their cries echoing, and Kyouya heard a noise not unlike someone getting knocked over and the contents of a backpack spilling all over the floor.

"So there's no need to worry," he added with a soft smile. "You will be missed, but…"

But there was more, wasn't there? Of course there was more. Kaoru, much like himself, was still water that ran deep, but Kyouya found it much more effective to play the sounding-board than to ask too many questions.

"It's not as if at this point we'll all stop being friends, Kaoru."

Kaoru nodded slowly. Kyouya waited, focusing his eyes on the curve of the twin's neck where it met the rumpled, half-closed collar. That way, when Kaoru raised his eyes their lines of sight would meet. The peach-colored fuzz at the nape of the twin's neck glowed in silhouette, and it was an inconvenient place to look, since it had always been the line of the younger twin's neck that invariably sent Kyouya's mind on a wild romp through boudoirs,and messily strewn sheets. But in the moment, it would have to do, for it was his general experience that people did not like to be looked at directly, but it was still effective to keep one's eyes in the general vicinity of the face. He was still holding on to Kaoru's sleeve, he realized, and considered letting go, but instead settled for letting his hand slide down his arm. The twin was shivering under his jacket, and Kyouya suspected it was not just from the cold.

Kaoru licked his lips, which had grown chapped.

"Kyouya-senpai, I…"

…

"Kyouya-senpai, where are you going?!"

Kyouya Ootori walked down the hall like a man possessed. Kaoru ran after him, barely keeping up, but the older boy ignored him, keeping his eyes fixed straight ahead.

Kyouya was not among the faint-hearted, and he had long guessed that there was more to the twins' relationship than met the eye. But it still took everything he had not to cough up the entire contents of his stomach when he heard. He saw his own horror reflect in Kaoru's face - and it was a miracle he merely managed to tighten his grasp on Kaoru's sleeve instead of pulling him into a hug tight enough to crush his spine.

"I'm going to find that bastard and let him know what I think, right here and right now."

"Kyouya-senpai, I don't think that's a good idea -"

But Kyouya walked on, his jaw clamped shut and his hands balled into fists, his every fiber trained on keeping himself from spinning around, seizing Kaoru by the collar and yelling in his face that he did not care, that it did not matter, that if only he knew -

The fact that the twins were allegedly Together - that he could have stomached. During the twins' performances at the club he was always torn between looking and looking away - his feeling akin to pleasure from twisting a knife. In particular, the ambiguity that the twins played up to such acclaim had come to be his saving grace, for in a world of unsourced and misattributed information Kyouya had learned to hold no regard for appearances. If he had no firsthand proof, it was not true - it was as simple as that. And even if it was, Hikaru was an even bigger airhead than Tamaki, and even steadfast little Kaoru, who let his brother drag him around like a mad dog on a leash, would surely grow tired of it eventually - for if he himself knew how to call out and shut down his best friend, Kaoru had never had the same degree of control over Hikaru.

When the initial wave of shock settled, his first thought was that he now had his chance. But the image of Kaoru's prone form, unable to move and being desecrated made everything bleed red. He was not stupid. He knew people who got raped did not just end up falling into bed with their rescuer several scenes later. No, Hikaru had not just robbed Kaoru of his first time - he had robbed the world of Kaoru.

To quell his feelings, Kyouya tried to ask Kaoru what he needed right then, but Kaoru said he did not know. Then Kyouya asked if Kaoru wanted to see Hikaru get in trouble, but the twin replied in the negative. He asked if he had told anybody else, and Kaoru shook his head. He finally inquired if Kaoru was afraid to face his brother again, and Kaoru said he wasn't sure. After that, Kaoru's answers became less and less like words, and eventually he stopped responding altogether, slumping against a wall with a fist in his mouth. That was when Kyouya started to want to punch something, and it also was when he decided to take matters into his own hands. The first order of business was to take Kaoru out of the situation and keep a close eye on him. That way, he could better assess the damage. But before that he would have to get Hikaru out of the way, and for that he would have to show him that he was fluent in Crazy Bastard.

They had left the colonnade, and their footsteps echoed up and down the marble walls of the hallway. They had climbed to the second floor, Kyouya measuring the steps in leaps of three or four, and came to a stop at the end of the main wing. Given where they were in the semester, Kyouya had long memorized the Host Club members' class schedules. Kaoru paused a few steps behind, an uncertain look on his face, and pressed his thighs together. Kyouya rolled his shoulders, drew a breath, and reached for the doorknob.

"Pardon me" - he flashed his best model-student smile at the teacher, a youngish woman he knew from his previous year. "I'm so sorry for the intrusion, but I have a message for Hitachiin. He's wanted in the dean's office - family business."

"Hikaru Hitachiin, I assume?" The teacher asked, turning her head. Her voice and the stucco-encrusted areas under her eyes betrayed a sleepless night. "Because Kaoru Hitachiin, from what I hear, is in the infirmary for the day."

"Yes, Hikaru Hitachiin." Kyouya let his lips spread into a smile, and nodded at Hikaru, who had begun to get out of his seat. "I was told he can bring his things" - he nodded at the book bag hanging off the side of the desk.

Hikaru got up, a bit shakily, and threw his bag over his shoulder. Kyouya watched him walk down the aisle between the rows of desks. It looked like the older Hitachiin had an inkling of what the "family business" was, for he kept his eyes down as he walked. Kyouya felt his lips curl into a smile - which he quickly flattened into his usual reserved, unruffled expression. He held the door open for Hikaru and waited for it to shut behind them, and when it did, Hikaru's eyes had just enough time to fall on his twin - whose back slumped visibly upon his brother's emergence - when he felt a hand on his collar and Kyouya's face was suddenly inches away from his, its expression enough to make the Hypotensive Overlord that the Vice President became after a poor night's sleep look like a playful kitten.

"Alright, you bastard, you listen to me -"

"Kyouya-senpai, what the he-?!"

But Kyouya's hand tightened around his collar, choking out his voice mid-word.

"You know EXACTLY 'what the hell'," Kyouya hissed, "So here's what's going to happen. Kaoru's going to come with me, and you're not going to do a thing about it if you don't want me to tell EVERYONE what you did, including the authorities. And if you think I'll stop at that -" He twisted the collar tighter.

Hikaru tried to thrash. "I didn't mean to - I'm sorry" - he managed to force out - but a fist met his stomach with such force that the wind flew out of him along with half his lunch, and only a violent fit of coughing stopped the sirloin and potatoes from sticking in his throat.

"Wanna deny it again?!"

"What is happening here?!"

The door flew open. The youngish teacher with bedraggled eyes stood on the threshold.

Perfect.

Hikaru, like everyone else, was probably convinced that there were certain things Kyouya would never do – that he would never risk getting in trouble for. But that was the idea. People feared most what they could not predict.

The woman gasped, and somebody screamed. Kyouya broke eye contact with Hikaru just long enough to register that the teacher had passed out, and several students had jumped up to see what what was the matter.

Doors began to swing open up and down the hall, and Kyouya heard teachers barking at students to get back in their classrooms. He slackened his hold on Hikaru's collar and gave him a shove. The twin stumbled backwards, and Kyouya began to laugh, and the laugh of Mephistopheles himself could not have packed more mirth.

…

"This… this is completely inadmissible!" The man in the large armchair clapped his hand so hard on the table, for all anyone knew _it_ might have been at fault for the proceedings instead of the two boys in front of him. "You especially, Ootori. A model student, class representative - I'd expect this from _anyone_ but you. And abusing your authority like that!"

The dust hovered, like tiny white gnats, in the light from the tall window and Kyouya stood before the principal's desk, his head hung in a perfect picture of shame. Hikaru stood by his side, looking markedly less apologetic - whereas Kaoru, as the witness, had been asked to take a seat on a chair off to the side where Kyouya could not see him.

"I am sorry," the third Ootori son said stolidly, speaking - from the looks of it - to the laces of his Oxfords. "I lost control, and acted in a way unbecoming of the trust you've placed in me. It won't happen again."

"Dispicable," the principal spat. "Might I ask what prompted such behavior?"

"That I am not at liberty to divulge, sir," Kyouya replied.

"Not at liberty to divulge?!"

"No, sir. I got involved because I could not remain indifferent, but it is a private matter between the twins, so it is not my place to tell anyone else."

"Could not remain indifferent! Hah! Two known troublemakers have a spat, and you allow yourself to get dragged into it?"

"Not exactly, sir. I would not describe it as a spat, it has nothing to do with their past history, and no one dragged me into it. I acted entirely on my own initiative, and I acted wrong, so I will accept whatever punishment you see fit."

The principle gave a ponderous sigh. He was not a patient man, and rather given to indigestion to boot. He had also just found out his wife was leaving him, and on top of that, the board of trustees could not come to a decision on the year's budget, all the people who had him in their pockets wanted contradictory things, and a rogue group of middle schoolers was getting more and more inventive when it came to academic dishonesty. He had not even had lunch yet, and the youngest Ootori with his calm reptilian eyes and cursory, painfully polite answers was enough to drive him up the wall and halfway across the ceiling. And the Hitachiin, too - whichever one he was - looked so smug that the principal wanted to wring his scrawny little aristocratic neck.

"Fine," he heaved a dyspeptic breath, puffing out his cheeks. "You're lucky I've no time for this right now." He paused, shaking his head again. Who would have thought. Dealing with the well-mannered offspring of the upper crust was more frustrating than with the ordinary lot. Somehow, the taste of future power, imbibed with their premium baby formulae, made them that much less afraid of authority.

"Detention" - he gestured severely first at the Class Representative and then at the Hitachiin, deploying his heaviest, most malachite-encrusted pen for the purpose. "For a month. Both of you. Ootori, you're stripped of your post as class representative, indefinitely. And if I see any more so-called good Samaritan antics out of you, I'll shut down your little club and I'll enjoy doing it."

…

Yoshio Ootori had always respected Yuzuha Hitachiin as a businesswoman. After all, in just under twenty years she had built a company up from scratch, and was now worth as much as her father, an IT mogul. But she was also the reason Ootori Senior was still skeptical of women in business as a concept, for in the parenting department Yuzuha had decidedly fallen short. Without either parent at home, her boys had grown up to be known troublemakers, their academic performance leaving much to be desired, and until Kyouya and the Suoh boy had involved them in an after-school club they had had problems fitting in, the older one being, reportedly, quite the bully.

Yoshio had spend the past hour trying very hard not to have a heart attack, and had just calmed down enough to pick up the phone when - speak of the devil - he saw Yuzuha's number flash up on the caller ID.

"Hello, Yuzuha," he said, pressing "talk" - his tone none too pleased. In her social circles, Yuzuha went by her first name, her last name being synonymous with her brand. "I suppose you got the call from the principal too?"

"Yes," her voice was just as unimpressed. "And that's not even the worst of it. I've got all three of them here -"

"All THREE of them?" Yoshio nearly dropped the receiver. His son never skipped class unless he had a fever high enough to fry an egg. But then again, his son was also not the sort to get caught fighting with another boy on school grounds - so perhaps there was a first time for everything.

"Yes. They came home at noon. Kaoru started packing his bags, and now Kyouya's saying that he thinks Kaoru should go live at your house for a while, get professional help, and maybe take a break from school for a while. And none of them will tell me what's really going on."

Yes, scoffed Yoshio to himself, because you're an appalling mother.

"To be honest, I'm at my wits' end," the younger woman went on. "I've got private fittings with clients all day, and first the younger one wouldn't go to school and now this. I really would appreciate any help at all, so maybe if you could-? After all, your children are all so well-behaved -"

Ootori sighed. Truthfully, it was not his problem. He did in fact have four children of his own, and hence he was not obligated. Besides, a club was one thing, but if he was a betting man, he would have put his money on the twins being nothing but a bad influence and advised Kyouya to keep away from them. But Yuzuha's voice stirred up something for which he could not remember the words. Whatever was going on in that house, it made not his concern, and yet, given his line of work, he could not exactly remain uninvolved.

"May I talk to my son, please?"

"Of course."

"Hello?" - Yoshio heard Kyouya's voice, mild-mannered as always.

Ootori senior cleared his throat, doing his best to master the urge to reach across the communication lines and slap his son six ways til Sunday. Given the circumstances, Kyouya's calm, urbane cadence was about as irritating as being thumb-nosed by a child and not being able to do anything about it.

"Ahem, Kyouya?"

"Yes, father?"

"We'll discuss the specific nature of your - ahem - actions later, but in the meantime do you mind telling me what exactly is going on that you felt the need to get involved?"

"I'm afraid I am not at liberty to say, father," Kyouya replied.

For the second time, Ootori nearly dropped the receiver. Was his son belatedly entering a rebellious phase? It was certainly not unlikely, considering how tight a leash he had kept him on until recently.

"It's a private matter on Kaoru's part, so it is not my place to share. Suffice it to say, though, I really do not think that his home is not a safe place for him right now."

"I see. And you simply decided to volunteer our house as an alternative."

"Well, I admit I should have asked first, and I'm sorry. But considering I might not be your favorite son right now, I thought it would be best if the request came from Mrs. Hitachiin."

Ah. Textbook. Well done, son. Well done. And it only took you sixteen years to learn how to play me. Ootori drew a breath and drummed his fingers on the leather covering of his desk.

Whatever his son's other faults, he had never doubted Kyouya as a judge of character - or situations. More than that, Kyouya had always had a knack for procuring insider information, and while he did not say it explicitly, one thing was abundantly clear. Beyond those directly involved Kyouya was the only one who _did_ know, it was not a matter to be spread around lightly, and the support and advocacy of someone who had all the facts was paramount.

"Alright, I understand," he said. "But remind me, Kyouya, whose house do you live in?"

"Yours, father."

"Good. Kaoru Hitachiin can stay with us, but while he's here you will be your responsibility. If anything happens - if there's any trouble at all, or if I see it impacting your schoolwork or your disciplinary record, that'll be the end, is that clear? Helping others is an admirable thing, but not at a detriment to your own well-being."

"Yes, father."

"Good, give the phone back to Mrs. Hitachiin."

Kyouya obeyed.

"Yuzuha?"

"Yes." The woman seemed to be breathing more easily.

"It's all settled. Kaoru can come as soon as convenient. Also, one of our hospitals here in town has a program for teens who are in a difficult place in their lives. It includes a comprehensive mental health evaluation and treatment if need be. There are also support groups and tutoring, since it's during school hours. I think Kaoru should take advantage of it, though you should probably also engage private tutors, since Ouran has a more intense program than most schools."

"Thank you, Ootori, thank you so much." Yuzuha sounded like she had lowered herself into a chair, and if she had not reached for a tissue, she would be needing one soon. "I'll cover any expense… You have no idea how much I owe you for this…"

Ootori smiled.

"No need," he said. "This is between friends. Besides, we can always write it off, and I think there's something Kyouya can learn from all this, too."


	3. Fears

Kaoru sat on the couch in the Ootoris' foyer with his bags by his side. They had arrived shortly after one. Yoshio Ootori was working at home that day, and he had cast one look at Kaoru and told Kyouya he wanted to speak to him alone. Kyouya followed him to a room down the hall, and while Kaoru tried very hard not to listen he still thought he heard raised voices and a slap or two.

In retrospect, Kaoru thought he ought to have done things a little differently. He had chosen to confide in Kyouya because the latter knew how to keep secrets, and indeed, the Shadow King had done well in maintaining that it wasn't his place to share what had transpired between the twins. But he still couldn't help but wonder whether everyone had guessed the truth regardless.

Still, he did not want to seem ungrateful, so he stood up quickly when Kyouya emerged. He searched his friend's face - for the Chairman had not been above hitting Kyouya before the entire Host Club on one occasion - but the Shadow King looked about as worse for wear as he'd just attended an outdoor luncheon.

"Well, that's done," he said, brushing his hands together. "I suppose there's still the matter of where we'll put you. We have two options -"

Kyouya paused, for Kaoru had suddenly gone back to looking stricken, and had lowered himself onto a pouf that doubled as a backless couch extension.

"Something the matter?"

"N-no…"

Kyouya lowered himself into a squat so the two of them were at eye level.

"I just – I was just thinking I probably shouldn't have brought you into this situation, senpai. It was... irresponsible of me -"

Indeed, he really ought to have known better than to lob the interpersonal equivalent of a hand grenade into the middle of their friend group. Kyouya was stable enough most days, but even he couldn't have been expected to stomach the news without doing something rash.

"Kaoru" - Kyouya extended a hand, pausing midway. When Kaoru first told him, he had reached out to put a hand on his instinctively. But now he drew back, wondering if it would do more harm than good, and tried to make it look like he'd simply wanted to fix his glasses. "What's done is done," he said drily – after all, he had not had time to read up on talking to rape victims. "Like I said, I think you did the right thing. You shouldn't have to keep something like this to yourself."

"A-alright," Kaoru nodded slowly. "But you - I mean - It's not like this isn't going to cost you - like it hasn't cost you already..."

"Kaoru," Kyouya sniffed a laugh. "If you're worried about THAT, don't. As you know, I've got such a sterling reputation, it's about time someone compromised it." Kyouya got to his feet and held out a hand - a symbolic gesture, he decided.

Indeed, ever since he joined the Host Club, Kyouya had enjoyed stepping outside his frame for a few hours a day. But at the club everyone still knew him as the urbane and cultivated sort. They knew his blood type was AB, and, hence, that he wasn't exactly a milk-of-human-kindness-by-the-quart-in-every-vein kind of guy. But they still considered Honey-senpai to be far more likely to go on a murderous rampage, whereas his own power lay more in ruining lives behind the scenes. By rights, it should not have mattered, but Kyouya still resented that particular constraint on his image, and had been itching to shake things up. Kaoru had merely provided a pretext. And what was more, from an admittedly selfish and juvenile standpoint Kyouya knew full well how taken Kaoru was with his brother's devilish side. If he himself were to go on being as straightedge as he was - devious enough but unwilling to take chances - then he might never have entered the running. To that end, his calculated decision to let loose was aimed not only at throwing Hikaru off balance, but as showing Kaoru a new side of him. After all, if it failed, he could easily rebrand himself as a tsundere badboy for the purposes of the Host Club. Already, with the news of the fight-that-almost-was spreading like wildfire, he had seen requests for himself and the twins go up fivefold, and it was only too bad that the club would be operating with a skeleton cast for a few weeks. Haruhi had a good head on her shoulders, and he would teach her the administrative tasks he couldn't perform from afar, but on the whole he felt better than he had in months, and the lost business was the only thing he regretted.

"Uh, alright," Kaoru nodded again. "But…"

Kyouya raised his eyebrows.

"I hate to be ungrateful after everything you've done for me, but d-do you think anyone would - you know?"

The twin was looking up at him, his shoulders slightly haunched, and if he had ears they would have been pressed sheepishly against his skull. Kyouya hated himself for the rush of power the posture sent through him, conjuring up images of Kaoru singing praises to his healing cock as it went, but he couldn't very well help it. The break from character had given him a rush like no other, and ever since they walked out of school under dozens of flabbergasted stares it had only grown stronger. Now that Kaoru was on his turf and they were one on one, it was making him see red again, but in a different way from before. Indeed, taking slow breaths to calm himself down was proving an exercise in self-mastery on its own right.

"No, Kaoru" - Kyouya said, folding his lips into his practiced, motherly smile. "I doubt anyone would guess what's really going on. After all, it was far from the first thing even on my mind. At worst, people might think Hikaru and I had a fight _over you_, but if that's the case, I've got ways of steering the rumors in another direction."

"O-okay." Someone closed a door down the hall, and the leaves of the orchid in the ikebana arrangement in the corner quivered. Kaoru looked down, fixing his eyes on his knees, and bit his lip. Kyouya had an answer for everything. And while Kaoru would have dearly liked to thank him and walk out the door right then and there, it would not have changed the situation. Like Kyouya said, what was done was done, and he could not have gone home after school that day anyway.

Indeed, if he didn't know how to talk to Hikaru before, he was doubly at a loss now. In fact, that was perhaps the real reason he regretted things turning out as they did.

"But what about Hikaru?" he asked, doing his best to make it sound like an afterthought. "He probably hates me now for going behind his back…"

Kyouya pressed his lips together, his features growing stony. "Hikaru is not our problem right now - he's got others he can go to for help, and he is not the victim here."

Normally, the Shadow King reserved looking straight into another's eyes for uncommonly delicate cases - emergencies, if you will - but Kaoru still looked less than convinced, so Kyouya knelt down and took his hand.

"Right now, your biggest priority is yourself," he said firmly, braving a small sigh when Kaoru did not pull away. "Don't worry about Hikaru, don't worry about public opinion, don't worry about me - I'll take care of it all. I will do everything I can to help you and stand by your side, and when it's over, I will never mention it again."

It would be hard, he realized, to try and convince Kaoru of the sincerity of his words - after all, it was whispered around the Club that Kyouya never did anything for free. Strictly speaking, he didn't even believe it himself. But if he couldn't convince a man he loved for having the eyes of one determined to die standing, what sort of calculating, manipulative bastard would he be?


	4. Kyouya

"So you're not going to tell me anything. You're not going to tell me anything at all."

Hikaru sat on his bed, arms folded, with his lip puffed out and his eyes fixed on a single spot on the carpet. Yuzuha stood just opposite with her hands on her hips. Through the conversation with the Ootoris, both senior and junior, she had done her best to keep her cool through what was just about her apotheosis as a bad parent in the eyes of the world, but Kaoru and Kyouya had gone, and she no longer had the strength to make her voice match her posture. Indeed, her words sounded more like a plea than anything else.

"I can't help you if you don't tell me anything" - she threw up her hands, turning on her heel and marching to the window. Outside, an early spring shower had come and gone, and the remnants of rain were dripping from the roses. The twins' bedroom opened into a small inner courtyard studded with vines, and standing close to the door she could smell the sated earth, resting plump and fecund after the ravages of the storm.

"Look, maybe you could go talk to them," she ventured. "Maybe it's not too late."

"Goddamiit, MOM" - Hikaru roared, jumping to his feet.

Yuzuha raised her fingers to her forehead, knotting her brows.

"Yeah. Talk to them. Yeah, right," Hikaru scoffed. "Have you MET Kyouya? He's probably got the whole damn Ootori police force patrolling the perimeter, and you want me to go TALK to them?"

"Alright, well maybe you can call them - I don't know." Yuzuha sighed. The headache was back. All she could wonder was how she had become so fragile.

"Call them. Yeah, right." Hikaru plopped back on the bed, folding his arms.

Indeed, he'd done just that about a dozen times since they'd gone, but from the looks of it both Kaoru and Kyouya had turned off their phones or blocked his number. It hurt to think about it - that he'd become such a persona non grata that he'd been blocked - but then again he probably deserved it, given that when Kyouya picked up he'd broken down and began to shout obscenities, only to have Kyouya inform him that he "didn't have to listen to that."

But still. It hurt. It hurt so much. It hurt enough to make him howl and climb the walls - and he would have done it, too, if it didn't hurt to move - to even take a breath.

"All I'm saying is, maybe there's still time to clear the air. Maybe you can go over there tomorrow, after things've settled down -"

"SETTLED DOWN?! Mom, you have no idea what's going on, so just - JUST DON'T TALK, ALRIGHT?!"

Yuzuha winced, touching her fingers to the spot between her brows.

"Hikaru, I'm not going to listen to this" - she sighed, picking up the hem of her semi-revealing kimono as she headed for the door.

…

Hikaru sat under the long, stinging needles for a long time, his eyes fixed on the molding between the tiles. The tiles were grey - just like the water, and just like the frosted glass that let in a grey light, only to have it mingle with the needles and circle forlornly around the drain.

Gone.

He had turned on the shower full-blast, but he still couldn't cry, even though he knew no one would hear him.

Kyouya had come and taken his brother, and his brother was gone. For a time, Hikaru had been afraid to look to the side for fear of seeing a black hole where his brother had been, for before that day, the twins had never been apart for more than a few hours. Indeed, when Kaoru had refused to speak to him in the morning, Hikaru was sure he'd come around - after all, Kaoru had a tendency to brood, often coming to him and breaking down after days of being quiet. In the end, they always talked, and it was always fine, for Kaoru trusted no one in the world like he trusted Hikaru. It didn't even matter that Kaoru's thinking was convoluted at times, and that he worried about things that Hikaru wouldn't have thought twice about. They were brothers - and that meant they always did their best for each other.

Hikaru hugged his knees, noticing for the first time how knobbly they were. One was bruised - he didn't know from what, and the other had a scab shaped like an arrowhead.

All he had wanted was to be close with his brother. Complicated and odd through Kaoru was, when they lay together under the covers, fingers laced and listening to the rain, time and again it would feel like it was everything he'd ever wanted. Living was difficult some days, and at times all he wanted was lie in bed all day, congealed into the sheets, but with Kaoru… Kaoru's presence, Kaoru's hair, Kaoru's freckle in the corner of his eye and the other one in the corner of his lip, Kaoru's fingers… Somehow, all those things had the power if not to make it all go away, but certainly to make it all feel small. And on top of all that, Kaoru always smelled very nice - like freshly cut sandalwood or ocean depending on the day, and was the only person to never tell Hikaru that his fears were stupid.

And now Kaoru was gone. Kyouya had come and taken him away.

A part of him still refused to believe that Kaoru had gone on his own volition. The Kaoru he knew would never have done that - would never have refused to look at him like that, would never have gone without a single word. Indeed, Hikaru couldn't shake the feeling that something was terribly, terribly wrong, and everyone had conspired to keep him in the dark about it.

The water ran out and the needles grew cold, but it wasn't until his shoulders began to shake that Hikaru decided he might want to do something about it - and even once he did, he still sat there for a long time, waiting for his skin to grow numb. He then got up, wrapped a towel around his shoulders, and stepped out of the shower, leaving the water on.

He knew what he did was wrong. He knew he should have stopped when Kaoru gasped and arched his back, and that he shouldn't have shamed his brother for backing out. It wasn't love, what he had done - but still, he thought that Kaoru might have forgiven him, or at least dignified him with a goodbye.

Hikaru approached the mirror - a large swath of glass that spanned half the wall, but he couldn't bear to look up. Instead, he reached for a razor in its holder by the sink, and tested it with his finger. Outside - from what he could tell, it had grown darker and grayer, and inside the darkness had followed suit by pooling into the corners.

A few shots, maybe a lighter, and this - and he'd be right as rain. At least for the moment, it felt like the only way to take care of himself.

…

The final bell had rung, and Kyouya paused by his locker to drop off his things before heading to detention. In all truth, part of him had suspected that there were better ways to handle the situation - ones that wouldn't have caused such a stir, and ones that wouldn't have required so much damage control. But he would have been lying if he said he didn't admit to enjoying the attention. From the moment he set foot in school that morning, people had been looking at him differently - a few with admiration, some with confusion, and many with dread. Fewer people spoke to him now, at least directly, but that was just as well - for he had been busy the previous night and there was still Haruhi to catch up on her new responsibilities. Indeed, less chatter meant more time to get things done, and while the old Kyouya's reputation might have been his most prized possession, as he headed for the unfamiliar part of campus where detention was held, the breeze carried with it an odd sense of relief along with the scent of falling sakura.

The detention room was like any other - there was no sign to mark it as such and Kyouya had to check the number before opening the door. A typical Ouran classroom greeted him - with rows of desks and inkwells two by two, a set of windows with light streaming through, and shining hardwood floors that looked like they'd been freshly lacquered. There was even the regulation bottle-green chalkboard, and a map of the world up above. A few of the students were already there, and Kyouya recognized Hikaru by his shock of red hair, though the twin had averted his eyes.

At other schools, getting detention meant being assigned chores, but at Ouran the educators of the privileged caste had deemed this too cruel and unusual a punishment. To that end, detention was simply study hall, where talking was not allowed and students had to sit in assign seats and work quietly for two hours. Which was well and good, for as far as Kyouya was concerned there was always more work to be done. To that end, he handed his slip to the teacher on duty and headed to his seat - the last one by the window. He thought he saw Hikaru glance up and hide his face - and the girls in the corner began to titter and opened up their phones, sending a wave of nudges and and winks across the room.

"Take a picture - it'll last longer," Kyouya tossed over his shoulder before the teacher could silence the room.

Yes, part of him was definitely enjoying his new rep, not at least he could finally say what he thought, in the tone he wanted to say it in. He settled into his seat with a satisfied smile, and flipped open his laptop. Laptops were allowed in study hall - considering that most entertainment websites were blocked by the school - but before he could click on the email from Haruhi with the subject line "One more thing," a new chat window opened up.

_**Hikaru Hitachiin: **Kyouya? *white flag* Can I talk to you? Please? Just for a minute. I promise not to swear or be rude._

Oh, brother.

Kyouya felt his eyebrow twitch - a tic that came out when he was annoyed. He glanced at the older twin's back. The older Hitachiin seemed to be holding his breath.

_(Kyouya Ootori has gone off-record)_

_**Kyouya: **Yes._

_**Kyouya: **I suggest you go off-record as well. Chats and email will be the first thing they'll scour for an admission of guilt - just a friendly reminder you don't deserve, frankly._

Kyouya looked up. Hikaru's elbows were poised in midair, fingers clenching and unclenching over the keycoard. The cursor blinked.

_(Hikaru is typing)_

_**Hikaru: **Kyouya, I know what I did was wrong._

No shit, Sherlock. Kyouya smirked.

_**Hikaru:** How's Kaoru? Is he feeling any better?_

_**Hikaru:** I just wanted to ask him one thing._

_**Kyouya: **Ask me. I'll deliver the message._

_**Hikaru:** … _

_**Hikaru: **Ok._

The twin's fingers pattered over the keyboard before pausing again.

_**Hikaru:** I guess I just don't understand why he didn't come to me. I mean, know he didn't have a very good time of it, but we're brothers. We tell each other everything. _

Kyouya folded his arms and leaned back in his chair.

_**Hikaru:** I just don't understand why he came to you. No offense, of course._

_**Kyouya:** Is that your question?_

_**Hikaru:** Yeah. I guess so._

Kyouya chuckled.

_**Kyouya: **Well, gee, I think I can answer that one._

Kyouya pursed his lips, taking a moment to phrase his next reply.

_**Kyouya:** I mean, I don't know, Hikaru. Not that I've been in such a situation, but I imagine I'd have a hard time talking to someone who forced me into sex, especially when I was physically incapable of doing anything to stop them._

Kyouya watched the cursor blink on the twin's screen. Hikaru looked like he had been scalded, even from behind.

_**Hikaru:** What..._

_**Hikaru:** What do you mean, physically incapable? _

_**Hikaru: **I mean, he wasn't moving much, but his eyes were open, he knew what was going on._

_**Hikaru: **I mean, it's not like he's that much weaker than me…_

_**Kyouya: **Oh, come off it, Hikaru, seriously. Do you not know that your brother's got sleep paralysis?_

_**Hikaru:** He's got what?_

_**Kyouya: **He hasn't told you that when he falls asleep there's a period of time when he can tell what's going on, but he can't move?_

_**Hikaru: **No!_

The twin's elbows were shaking now - as was the rest of him. But it was Kyouya's turn to pause.

_**Kyouya:** So you're saying he's NEVER told you he's had sleep issues?_

_**Hikaru: **No, he hasn't!_

_**Kyouya:** And you never noticed anything?_

_**Hikaru: **No!_

_**Kyouya:** I see. But don't the two of you, pardon my French, sleep together?_

_**Hikaru:** Yeah, but…_

_**Hikaru: **I always fall asleep two seconds after I... _

_**Hikaru:** Well, you know._

_**Kyouya:** Okay. I see. _

Kyouya sat up and pondered.

Obviously, this complicated matters. Not that not-knowing absolved Hikaru of his guilt, but he was beginning to understand Kaoru's uncertainty.

_**Hikaru: **Kyouya, does this mean I'm a rapist?_

_**Hikaru: **I don't wanna be a rapist!_

Kyouya sighed.

Well, gee, you raped - he thought to himself - so I don't know what else I'd call you.

But even the new Kyouya could not have brought himself to type that.

He sighed again.

_Well, I'm sorry to say -_- he began to type - _But you did what you did, and it'll be up to Kaoru to decide what's next. Regardless of the circumstances, the lack of a no is not a yes - that much you should've learned in health class_

_(Hikaru is typing) _

_**Hikaru:** Kyouya, please, you've got to tell him I didn't mean it._

_**Hikaru:** I would never do something like that _

_**Hikaru:** I mean, I love him, he's my brother, I just want him back_

The twin typed feverishly for a few more moments, only to stop and suddenly delete everything he'd written.

_**Hikaru:** Please just tell him I'm sorry_

Kyouya sighed, shaking his head, and pressed "return" on his earlier message.

_Hikaru, I need to go_ - he added - _I'm sorry. I'll do everything I can to look after Kaoru, but it's really up to him._

He closed the chat and exed out of the window. Hikaru sat frozen to the spot, eyes fixed on the screen, but that was the breaks, and Kyouya had bigger fish to fry. After all, it was getting late, and with everything that had been going on, if he wasn't careful he'd start falling back on his schoolwork.

…

"So how have things been, Kaoru?"

The young woman smiled across the space between them, her knees and ankles primly together. She sat very straight in her chair, and, indeed, all of her was very straight, from the lines of her hair to the rims of her glasses. Kaoru noticed she wore brown Mary Janes, too, and they matched her pencil skirt.

The days had begun to blur together, and Kaoru could not remember much of anything anymore. He had not slept since he arrived at the Ootoris', and when it came to insomnia the man from Fight Club had been right. When you weren't really asleep, you were never really awake, either. His head ached continuously, and felt very light, and was like a big empty room, with thoughts that wandered in, but none that tarried very long. Once in a while, a wave of drowsiness would come over him, and his hands and feet would feel like big, clumsy mattresses - but on the whole all he felt was a whole lot of nothing. Nothing - and emptiness.

All he recalled from those days were the ashen walls of his new bedroom, with its four-poster bed and its heavy white drapes - and then there was the blinding light of the morning room, too, with its cups of black coffee and Ootori senior reading the paper. Kyouya's older brother was there too, but Kaoru didn't register much about him except that his hair was a few shades lighter than Kyouya's, and that he was talking about something Kaoru couldn't understand.

And at the day program, too, all he could recall were the dapples of light, stamped across a linoleum floor in a room with desks welded to the floor. He remembered the boy that sat next to him, too. His name was Nitori, and he had a mole on his right cheekbone, and mousy hair.

"I'm sorry?"

"I understand you've been through some hard times, Kaoru. If you're not ready to talk about it just yet, that's fine. But I want you to know that this is a safe place. What we say here stays here, and no one else can know about it."

Kaoru nodded. He knew how psychologists worked - he'd had his share in his lifetime. He knew the statement came with a caveat, too - that the things he said stayed in the room as long as he didn't mean to hurt himself or others. Still, his rational mind agreed: there were things to be done and problems to be worked through, except… Except the bigger issue was that Hikaru was gone - gone as he knew him - and Kaoru felt like little more than a shell. Indeed, it was a miracle he was still able to move and to speak - to do anything, really. He supposed he would have had keep living somehow - the alternative was inconceivable - and yet he didn't know where to begin. It was as if everything had been wiped blank, and the computer screen flashed "error."

"Let's start with today. How has today been for you?"

Kaoru pressed his lips. There was a coffee table between them, and on the coffee table there were books. Indeed, the office was designed to look like a living room - with Ansel Adams on the walls, an Afghan rug, and potted plants aplenty.

"You know, I've been meaning to tell you" - Kyouya had buttonholed Kaoru in the foyer that day, just as they were leaving that morning. Kaoru had not admitted that he'd slept poorly, only nodded when when they'd asked if everything was alright, but Kyouya, as always, knew better.

"It's just the way you described something - it was odd," Kyouya went on, looping his shoelaces around his fingers.

"Yeah?"

The dust buzzed in the streams of light from the tall windows flanking the door, and Kaoru had begun to feel light-headed.

"From what you told me, I got the sense that when you're falling asleep, there's a period of time when you're conscious of what's going on, but you can't move - right?"

"Yes."

"You... do know that's not exactly… normal, correct?"

Kaoru had not known, and at first he had hardly registered the statement.

"Not normal?"

"I don't believe that's medically normal, no."

Kaoru sat heavily on the bench, opposite the one occupied by Kyouya. The older boy had gone on to tie his other shoe by touch as he watched Kaoru with his usual, blank-slate expression.

The sun was starting to hurt his eyes.

"I think it might be a good idea to tell them about that today," Kyouya said. "After all, sleep is important."

Kyouya knew. Of course Kyouya knew. He knew it would be hard to talk about what actually happened, so he'd given him a crutch, and Kaoru felt overwhelmingly thankful.

"I guess today's been a little tough," he ventured, taking a breath.

"I see. How so?"

"Well, I've been living with a friend, so I haven't been sleeping very well. In fact, I haven't been sleeping at all."

"I see," the woman said gently, jotting something on her pad. Kaoru noticed that her eyes were a good deal like Kyouya's - almond-shaped and maroon, with just the slightest touch of milky opalescence. "And will this be the first time you've had problems with sleep?"

…

It was past midnight, and Kyouya's eyes were starting to get dry. His back was starting to get stiff, too, and he had caught himself reading the same line over and over - which meant that studying had reached the point of diminishing returns.

He looked up at the clock.

Wednesday. It was only Wednesday. Two more days. No, a day and a half. Kyouya had never let on, but he liked weekends almost as much as the next high school student, because weekends meant he got to sleep in. It was always difficult to his work down at night, and, at the end of the day, Kyouya LIKED the night. Things were different at night - not so much so because it was populated to a whole other set of creatures, no. Even if that were the case, Kyouya would never have known it, seeing how he never went out. No - he simply liked to sit in a bubble of light and enjoy the pure, unadulterated impossibility of anyone bothering him.

Of course, the flip side was that by the time Friday rolled around, the fatigue would add up. Not uncommonly, Kyouya needed three strong cups of coffee to get him through the day, and that number was steadily growing.

With a sigh, he rose out of his seat, running his palm over his face. He had half a mind to walk the few steps to the bed and fall asleep still-clothed, but his mouth was dry and he didn't want to trouble the servants. To that end, he made his way to the den, and turned the corner to the hall.

In the kitchen, the lights were off, but flickered on as soon he stepped inside. A large expanse of countertops came into view, along with a shining hibachi grill, and the tall face of a refrigerator. Kyouya approached the fridge and started.

On the floor, there was a wilted Hitachiin twin, his legs twisted under him like a broken puppet's. A glass of lay spilled on the floor, and the ice cubes strewn across the tiles.

"Kaoru?"

Kaoru did not look up.

The Hitachiin had gone to bed with the rest of the house - which usually retired early - and so Kyouya had not seen him for several hours.

He squatted to his level.

"Kaoru, is everything alright?"

Kaoru didn't answer. Of course he wouldn't. How stupid to even ask. And yet, the redhead's eyes were unnaturally dark and lackluster, like the windows of an empty house.

"Kaoru, talk to me," Kyouya said firmly. "Did something happen? Are you unable to sleep?"

The Hitachiin stared at the ice cubes and nodded.

Kyouya sighed. "I thought as much."

What would help?

No - that, too, was a pointless question.

"You need sleep, Kaoru. I know it won't fix things, but… Have you told them you've been having sleep problems today?"

Kaoru nodded, pulling his legs to his chin.

"Yeah, but… Yeah."

"Have they done anything about it?"

"They gave me some pills…"

Kyouya raised an eyebrow, tilting his head to the side.

"They're not helping?"

"N-no, I just…" Kaoru drew a ragged breath, burying his face further into his knees. "I'm afraid to take pills."

"What are you worried will happen?"

"I - I don't know." Kaoru hid his eyes.

Kyouya pondered for a moment.

He couldn't begin to fathom what it was like. He wasn't sure he wanted to. It seemed like Kaoru was more than an empty house - he was an empty hearse - worse than dead and worse than empty. To expect him to do anything at all - to react in any way that was rational, was anything but -

And yet he couldn't shake the feeling that if he only got close enough, he would be able to reach out to the struggling person trapped inside.

"Well, look, I think it's worth a try," he said. "Yes, pills can have side effects, but how about we try them now, and I can keep watch in case something happens?"

Obviously, few pills had instantaneous side effects - Kyouya didn't have to have gone to med school to know that much - but if Kaoru believed it to be true, then so be it.

"O-okay."

"Okay, then." Kyouya pulled himself to his feet, holding out a hand. The refrigerator face stared down, tall and imposing and silver, and Kyouya registered that his throat was still dry. But Kaoru still looked doggedly down, as if purposefully avoiding the hand.

"How about we go to my part of the house, and you can have my bed. I can sleep on the couch downstairs - or on the ottoman upstairs. Either way, I'll be close by in case you need me."

"O-okay."

"Can you get up?"

Kaoru made a half-hearted motion with his legs, only to flop down dejectedly. The refrigerator stopped, leaving the hum of the lights.

"No? Alright."

Kyouya bent his legs and took Kaoru's hand, placing his other one on his back and pulled him into a standing position. Thankfully, the twin was in decent enough shape not to flop over, and Kyouya quickly calculated how many feet and how many turns they'd have to make between the kitchen and his bedroom. At the very least, Kaoru seemed untraumatized by the touch - which was good news, and Kyouya threw the twin's arm over his shoulders, taking firm hold of his torso.

"Alright, let's go, it's not too far."

Kaoru nodded, making a small noise in his throat, and they set off. At first it was slow-going, and walking supporting another person was certainly no picnic, but it couldn't have been worse, Kyouya thought to himself, than the time he'd given Tamaki when the King and the hosts had dragged him out of bed for an early-morning trip to the mall. In the end, it didn't take as long as he'd thought. Halfway through, Kaoru seemed to find his feet, and before they knew it they were back in the bedroom - or rather the elevated space in the wing that Kyouya called his own. The blues of the moon lay printed on the bed, and Kaoru plopped down on it, pulling his knees up to his chest.

"Alright, first things first," Kyouya said, dusting off his hands in a perfunctory manner. "Where exactly are your pills - so I can go find them?"

The pills turned out to be in Kaoru's bag, and it took Kyouya less than a minute to find them. In any event, that was good news - for it may have just been his imagination, but the guest room didn't look too friendly, with its four-poster bed like some sterile torture device brought into an operating theatre.

When he returned, pill-bottle and glass in hand, Kaoru did not look like he had moved, only his chest was rising fitfully.

"Would it help to hold something? A stuffed animal, perhaps?"

He set the water and the pills on the table.

It was late, so Kyouya wasn't sure what he was thinking - it was so long since he'd even owned stuffed animals. He would have to check the storage - but the Hitachiin twin nodded, balling his fists into the bedspread.

"Alright, I'll look. Take these first."

He put his hand behind Kaoru's back and helped him up, watching him swallow the pills. He then steadied his chin and brought the water to his lips.

Once the twin was resting quietly again, Kyouya sighed and took a step back, putting the pills back on the bedside table. He cast another look over the huddled form and quickly turned away, walking over to the wall of closets. He wasn't good at this. Indeed, from the moment he'd spotted Kaoru on the kitchen floor, the bulk of his mental energy had gone towards talking himself down from the proverbial ledge.

Outside of their friend Tamaki's crazed imagination, he wasn't motherly - at all. His family had hardly been close after his mother died - when he was only four - and his sister Fuyumi had been a poor substitute. In fact, outside his skill of looking at another as if they were all that existed - a skill he used in networking and had perfect long before the Host Club - he hardly knew the first thing about caring for another. And to make things worse, he didn't even know what Kaoru wanted. From the start, he'd wondered if he should offer up his room to share, seeing how that's what Kaoru was used to, but sharing a room was what had started the trouble. And then there was the dilemma when it came to touching, too. Until that point, reaching out a hand was all that Kyouya allowed himself, and yet he had yearned to do more, for… For when had he last touched someone, even? It seemed like everything he'd done, his whole life until then, had been so sterile, so… perfunctory.

He slid open the door. Thankfully, he had always been an fastidious organizer, so it took less than a minute of moving boxes to find the one labeled "Age 3-5." He lifted the lid, a little afraid of what he would find, and felt his heart move in an uncomfortable way.

The toys looked so much smaller now. The giraffe that had been once as big as him now fit, its neck kinked, into a box a half-meter square, and the others looked at him with pitiful googly eyes. Kyouya pulled out the giraffe, brushing off invisible dust, and looked back at the twin. Kaoru still lay in a heap on the bed, and had not moved.

"Here," Kyouya said, walking over - his voice a bit gentler. "This is… Well, my giraffe." The Giraffe had had a name, but it wasn't a memory that Kyouya was ready to disturb.

The Hitachiin looked up, and Kyouya held out the toy.

"He hasn't seen the light of day in a while, I suppose." Kyouya smiled. "But I remember liking him quite a lot as a child."

Kaoru gave a half-nod and pulled the giraffe towards him, wrapping his arms and legs around it.

"Is there anything else I can do for you? Something to drink, maybe?"

Kaoru shook his head. In the half-light from the desk, his skin looked pale - translucent - and Kyouya noticed a vein just under the temple.

Mother of Hell.

Yes, a terrible, ego-dystonic part of him that lusted and longed without rhyme or reason had thought of Kaoru in his bed many times. But in his dreams, they'd lie skin on skin laughing at bad puns, and playfully pulling a book back and forth - all on a long, blissful Sunday morning with nowhere to go and an agenda pristine as the sheets.

No, not like this. Never like this.

Kyouya wanted to cry - and vomit.

The twin had begun to whimper and shift, his knees still up and his face in the giraffe's neck. In the half-light, it was hard to tell the color of even his hair - everything just looked ash-grey.

"You can stay here tonight if you want," Kyouya said. "In fact, you can stay here every night. We can have another bed moved in here for you. I meant to offer when you first got here, but I wasn't sure -"

He paused. Kaoru's whimpers had quieted, and he lay still again, his chest neither rising nor falling.

"Kaoru, can you hear me? Are you alright?"

No answer.

"Kaoru, please move if you're alright."

Kyouya waited, and, slowly - very slowly - Kaoru tightened his grip on the giraffe.

"Okay, good." Kyouya took the chair from his writing desk and turned it around, lowering himself into it.

"Kaoru, can I ask you something? Please? I just want to know."

The clock ticked, the gears measuring out invisible seconds. The bed lay in a long shadow that came from Kyouya knew not whence, and the Hitachiin had begun to breathe regularly again, though Kyouya could not see his eyes.

Kaoru nodded.

"When it comes to -"

No. He couldn't. He ached at the incompleteness of it all, the fallibility of words, and yet… When HAD he last touched someone? That is, in anything but a perfunctory way, such as shaking hands?

"Never mind. I… "

He got up with a sigh, and strode back to the closet, pulling down an extra blanket. Kaoru was in no shape to move under the covers, but it still got cold at night. He turned, briefly, to look at the wall-sized expanse of sky that connected the two levels of his wing. Outside, the trees in the garden seemed to shine - thought it wasn't much of a garden. The Ootori estate was built in postmodern style, and was like a space station sitting on an acre of bare ground. The trees encircled the house in a neat line, but beyond that, the Ootori patriarch - in what he considered to be the height of eccentricity - had reproduced an American prairie.

Kyouya balled his fists into the comforter and turned away, walking back over to the bed.

"Kaoru, I know it's hard for you to sleep," he said, his voice shaking just barely. "I know you might not even know what you need right. But I really, really…"

He sucked in a pained breath.

Bedside manner. Bedside manner? FUCK bedside manner. This was his friend, his friend was in pain, and he even couldn't even say two words to help HIM? What kind of a sick, twisted, repressed, frozen freak WAS HE?

"Kaoru, I -"

No. He had no words. There WERE no words.

Clenching his fists, he tossed the blanket over his friend, and waited for the fleece to settle. Kaoru did not move as it did, and Kyouya turned on his heel and strode over - this time to the bookshelf.

How long had it been? How long had it been since he'd read a book he wanted to read, a book not filled with facts and numbers? Something tugged painfully under his ribs as he ran his eyes over the shelf, the books like captive butterflies pinned under glass. He stopped at one in particular, and slid open the panel.

When he came back over to the bed, Kaoru still lay, draped in the cold of the moonlight, fingers deep in the giraffe's fur.

Kyouya flipped open the book and sat down.

"Chapter One" - he read out loud - "The long-expected party."

…

An hour later, the hobbits had set off for Bree but had not yet met Tom Bombadil, and Kyouya paused in his reading. Truth be told, he'd been afraid to let his eyes leave the page lest he start to feel things again, and the sound of his voice was as much a balm on his own nerves as it was a means to soothe Kaoru. In many ways, Tolkien's writing was the perfect: eloquent, the work of a true linguist - and hardly heavy-handed, such that no one might have faulted him for having "too many notes." Reading Tolkien was like getting on a boat and being born ceaselessly away, past mists of time to a world both richer and purer.

Kaoru's eyes were closed, and his chest was rising and falling steadily. The light of the lamp rested on his face and the rest of the bed lay in shadow. His grip on the giraffe slackened.

Kyouya sighed and put the book down by the glass and the pills.

The twin's submissiveness earlier notwithstanding, he still hadn't gotten an answer to his question - but he supposed it was all the same. As far as he could guess, Kaoru was narcoleptic, which meant there was no way to tell if he was awake or asleep. It also meant there was no way to tell if something went awry until the next day - but as Kyouya liked to tell himself, sometimes being present was half the battle.

His own body felt like lead, and the ottoman in the corner of the room - just shy of the orb of the yellow desk-lamp - seemed to be a million miles away. But it wasn't nearly as far away as he felt from where he wanted to be.


End file.
